Feed your addiction for fiction
For the past several days, I had the same recurring dream. In it, I stood a little over two meters from the red door, and in each dream I took a step closer. The last thing I wanted was to go near it–to see whatever the door had to show me. I wanted none of it, but I didn’t know why.
Why does it make me feel this way? I asked myself when I woke up last. It’s just a door.
Update to March’s blog schedule and revealing April’s schedule a couple days early.
First, I want to thank all my new followers! I appreciate your support 🤗 Secondly, I want to say that I’m sorry for the lack of a birthday bio yesterday and Weird chapter today. I recently received a new diagnosis from a psychiatrist regarding my mental health, and I suppose I’m still processing that information.
The door opened.
Shadows crept in, scaling the walls and slithering across the ceiling.
He took a step in.
Who is that? My body asked.
My mental presence shook her head, panicked. I-I don’t–
He took another step in.
And another.
Sisters of the Shadows 